


Your Arms Around Me

by Tzaritsa



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Friendship/Love, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-20
Updated: 2013-11-24
Packaged: 2017-12-20 19:45:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/891124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tzaritsa/pseuds/Tzaritsa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Difficult moments of vulnerability are often the ones that define us the most. A series of such moments shared between Riza Hawkeye and Roy Mustang. Rated M for later chapters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist

The boy who’d proudly introduced himself as Roy Mustang a year ago didn’t carry quite the same bravado as he whimpered and sniffled, twisting about frantically in his bed. Riza heard the distressed sounds from her room down the hallway and, well aware that her father couldn’t be bothered for anything when he was in his study or sleeping, took it upon herself to investigate just what was troubling her friend. She cracked his door open slightly to reveal the fifteen-year-old tossing and turning, making short, panicked cries that pulled at her heart. Riza quickly shuffled over to the side of his bed, attempting to land a grip on one of his shoulders.

“Mister Mustang!” the girl whispered sharply as he flailed about. Roy clumsily landed a hand on her arm then scrambled to wrap his other arm around her middle, seemingly trying to anchor himself down with her. Startled, Riza tensed up as the boy’s hyperventilating began to slow, his grip on her still strong. Understanding that he was still held captive by a dream, Riza sat on his bed as his body shuddered against hers, hugging her close. She adjusted herself to get more comfortable, bringing one of her arms out from his bear hug and running her fingers gently through his hair, damp from sweat. This calmed him immensely and a few moments later he lied down, bringing the girl with him. 

Riza didn’t know what to think. She and Roy had gotten along very well and she very much enjoyed his company. It’s hard to explain the feeling that overcomes you when you see someone you admire so much in such a state of vulnerability. She had no qualms with comforting her friend as he battled night terrors – lord knows he’s become a savior of sorts for her – but she wasn’t sure how to go about extracting herself from Roy in a way to leave as much dignity intact as possible. With the face of the boy almost two years her senior pressed firmly to her collarbone, she was relieved as she saw the last of the tension flee from his features.

“Ri-Riza…?” Roy muttered as his eyes struggled to open. Riza could’ve died with how heart-breakingly fragile he sounded in that moment. She hushed him and ran her fingers through his hair once more, instantly drawing a relieved sigh from her father’s apprentice. Roy self-consciously loosened his grip around her back, cheeks heating up as he realized his awkward positioning. In an effort to help him save some face, Riza quickly straightened up, simultaneously freeing herself from his grip, then settled down across from him, meeting his eyes at an equal level. She rested her head on her left hand as she brought her right up to lie on her side.

“It’s okay,” she started nervously, unsure of what to say. I’m here sounded too intimate. Of course they were friends. And Riza would consider them to be pretty close… but this was unchartered territory. Not only did she step into his room uninvited, but she was also now lying in bed with a boy who’d just been clinging to her in his unconscious state. 

Knowing that she was probably as uncomfortable as he was, Roy tried to clear the air. “I’m sorry. I get bad nightmares…” he began shyly, avoiding eye contact. “You’d think I would’ve grown out of them by now,” he chuckled bitterly, more to himself than her. He closed his eyes, wanting to just disappear.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Riza offered as she made herself comfortable, sliding in under Roy’s covers after experiencing a chill in the absence of his body heat. Roy’s eyes widened as he realized the girl wasn’t going to poke fun at him. He was a rather confident kid, but he understood that one swipe at his ego from Riza would bring him crumbling down. How had that come to be… he wondered as he watched her get situated next to him. After a few moments of silent thought, he joined her underneath the covers, propping his head up on his hand.

“Well, they’re all pretty much the same,” Roy whispered cautiously, worried he might say too much and throw off the comfortable balance Riza had set in place. “I’m fighting for something and at the very last minute I have to make a choice between sacrificing one person for the good of the world or risking the safety of millions for the sake of one person.” Afraid he sounded crazy, he sheepishly pressed forward. “I don’t know exactly how my parents died and I think a subconscious part of me wonders if I would have been able to make a difference. But everything happens for a reason, right?” Roy sighed, glad to be able to voice his concerns for once. He didn’t mention how Riza had woke him before he made the decision, or how grateful he felt for not having that memory to haunt him through the next few days.

“It’s not your fault your parents died,” Riza assured, placing a hand on Roy’s shoulder for added effect. Realizing that she was probably crossing (yet another) line, she withdrew the touch only to have the boy take her hand in his.

“I know,” he said, dark eyes only illuminated by the moonlight shining through his window. “Apparently my sleepy state doesn’t agree.” He frowned, seemingly looking into the darkness past Riza while he held fast to her hand. 

Riza figured he just didn’t want to be alone, and she’d be lying if she said she minded spending time with Roy. Especially in this particular occasion that had him opening up more than he ever had before. In the dark she pondered how unfortunate that this idealistic, motivated young man would be haunted so in his dreams. She smiled to herself, noting how he had no problem with pleasant daydreams when he should be focusing on more pressing matters, most importantly his alchemy homework. It was just another quality that she admired in him, though, so she locked the thought of optimistic Roy Mustang behind her lips as she scanned his face for any more worries. He smiled softly at her before closing his eyes again. It was a few moments before she realized he had fallen asleep. Knowing too well that her father never cared to explore the personal lives of the inhabitants of his house, related or not, Riza resolved to let slumber overtake her… just as long as she was up in time to prepare breakfast in the morning.

The next morning she awoke in much the same way as she remembered falling asleep. Roy breathed softly as she watched him resting peacefully, her hand still clasped in his own. She made a move to rise when she suddenly heard a groan come from her bedmate. He tightened his grasp on her hand just a little bit as he subconsciously rolled a little closer to her. Riza’s eyes softened as he attempted to cuddle up to her. Maybe she could sleep in a little longer…. A glance at the clock told her otherwise and she begrudgingly, but quietly, sat up, trying not to wake Roy.

She placed a soft kiss on his forehead before making her way out of his room, not noticing his lopsided grin (and blush) as she closed the door.

……………

That night became the first of many in which Riza snuck into the room of her father’s student in the hopes of rescuing the boy from the frightening late night hours. By the fifth trip, Riza simply slid into “her” side of the bed and slipped her arms around the trembling, panting Roy, who almost instantly relaxed into her embrace. After a couple months, his nightmares grew scarcer as Riza’s vigilance seemed to put him at ease. They spent significantly more time together – the hours he would spend at night studying in his room were now shared with Riza, who read books or plunged into a new textbook. Alchemy may not have been her forte, but she was no less an eager student.

The occasional sleepovers were simply never mentioned. For that Roy was grateful. As confident as Riza was that her father didn’t give a damn about what they did, he couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable sharing a bed with his teacher’s daughter, no matter how platonic the situation was. He also appreciated how she accepted his behavior like it was the most normal thing in the world, only intervening to help where he needed it. And god did he need it! Especially as his tasks from Master Hawkeye increased in volume and complexity, his subconscious just couldn’t wait to attack him when he was most defenseless.

As for Riza, she felt drawn to Roy in a way she hadn’t been before. He was so different than the other alchemists her father had taken on. Not strictly in age, but in demeanor. Roy had a sort of conviction about him – a solid understanding of his moral compass – that spoke to her in his actions as well as in his own words, especially after she started spending more time with him. Being around Roy inspired in her a faith in the world that she had long forgotten. Spending those years of solitude with her father did not quite give her much joy. Roy had become a ray of sunshine for her and she enjoyed basking in his light. That is why she did not hesitate at all to drag him from his night terrors – he did the same for her every day without even realizing it.

……………

One day Roy found himself in town, browsing through different flowers on one of his rare days off. He felt he was in on some sort of secret when Master Hawkeye gave him the day to himself – it was Riza’s sixteenth birthday and he’d only just now stumbled upon this valuable piece of information. The thought made the boy pause as he considered lilies… one of those free days he gave me last year was probably her birthday, too… and I wasted it! While he had never known her exact date of birth, Roy did make the effort to surprise her with gifts every so often and remind her that he valued their friendship. He had just assumed her birthday occurred in one of those months he went home to visit his aunt and sisters. That was until he was looking through Riza’s bookshelf and came across an old, clearly loved book given to her on her birthday several years ago. This memory also stirred another thought within Roy – it had been so long since he’d spent some time with Riza.

Roy selected an assortment of flowers before heading out of the shop, ready to head back to the Hawkeye manor. His thoughts drifted to his lovely friend, as they tended to do much more often lately. Riza had been spending significantly more time in her father’s study than Roy ever remembered her doing before and it hadn’t occurred to him as particularly strange until now. Had he finally become a caring guardian to the little blonde angel that Roy so adored? Roy frowned a bit at the thought… my little angel. How was he going to tell her what he intended to do in a few short months? He knew he could tell Riza anything – she was his best friend – but he knew that he would be heartbroken if she were to leave him… would she feel the same way?

When did his feelings towards her grow to be this way? Sure, he’d always found her nice and interesting… but now words like “charming,” “beautiful,” “caring,” and “strong” worked themselves into the framework of the Riza Hawkeye that occupied his thoughts. His pace picked up slightly as he thought about how captivating her eyes were, how endearing her short haircut was on her, how attractive it was that she was never intimidated by anything, how strong yet soft her arms felt around him… 

Roy shook the myriad of thoughts from his head as he entered the house, flowers hid behind his back. He heard voices coming from his teacher’s study and took advantage of the moment to steal away to his room upstairs, intending on finishing up his gifts for Riza. Yes, today he would just think about trying to make it a special one for her… then later he’d focus on how to break the news to her that he planned to enroll in the military academy.

Hours flew by and nighttime set in while Roy waited for Riza to leave the study. What all could Master Hawkeye possibly have planned for her? Maybe I don’t give the man enough credit he thought wryly to himself as he finally heard soft footsteps making their way down the hall. He took one last look in the mirror (god, why can’t my hair behave just for one day!) before slipping a small wrapped box into his pocket and grabbing the bouquet of flowers. He was outside her door in seconds, knocking softly on the wood as his stomach started to do somersaults. Stop that!

He almost dropped the flowers at the sight of Riza. She had opened the door, knowing if she hadn’t he would’ve just entered on his own anyway, to reveal to him a girl clearly suffering from great exhaustion. What in the world did he make her do today? Run a marathon? Roy offered an awkward smile before reached to take her arm with his free hand, planning to lead her to sit on her bed. To his dismay, she straightened up ramrod straight at the hint of contact, as if she’d been electrocuted. She smiled apologetically – and so tiredly – as she took her place at her desk.

“How are you?” she said softly, for some reason avoiding his eyes. Actually, she couldn’t seem to settle her eyes down on anything in the room, though she was making a great attempt to focus in on something on the floor.

“Never mind me,” he blurted, holding out the flowers he’d pick out that morning, “Happy birthday, Riza!” He was devastated with the display of emotions that played across her eyes, starting with genuine shock then transitioning into tired frustration, and, finally, some sort of sadness he had difficulty pinpointing. Whatever had happened, he knew it wasn’t his fault… they knew each other better than to throw or accept guilt from the other just to have someone to blame. That didn’t stop his heart from pounding in his ears as he realized something had hurt his Riza.

For the first time that evening he considered her from head to toe. She was dressed rather comfortably, with a larger, dark shirt that almost came down to her knees. Her face seemed pale and a bit swollen around the eyes, but maybe that was the dim lighting in the room giving that effect. She sat stiffly at her desk, hands working worryingly over each other and brow furrowed. “What happened,” Roy demanded more than asked, laying the flowers down in front of her.

Riza took in a deep breath before turning her face to regard the moon. “They’re lovely, Roy. Thank you so much.” Her voice shook as she continued to avoid eye contact. “It’s been a long time since anyone’s remembered.” ‘Cared’ was probably the word she wanted, Roy figured; there’s no way his master just coincidentally gave him the day off and spent the day with…. Wait a minute.

“Did he do something to you?” Roy’s voice contained an edge in it unfamiliar to Riza, but it registered as angry nonetheless. He kneeled in front of her as she remained at her desk, his concerned gaze trying to bore through to her. She closed her eyes, wanting him to understand and just leave. You cannot know… not now.

But she knew he couldn’t possibly understand. Who could have guessed that a father would do such a thing to his daughter? It wasn’t fair for her to expect Roy to read her mind, so she decided to be as straightforward as she could afford.

“Roy, I cannot explain everything to you right now,” she licked her lips, unsure of how she wanted to continue. Just hurry up and get him out of your room before you burst into tears… “Everything will be all right. Today was just… difficult. And I’d like to go to bed now. I’m sorry for all of the trouble you went through to get these for me… please know that I appreciate them more than anything.” With that she turned towards him and smiled weakly.

As desperate as he was to hear exactly what happened, Roy could not deny that she looked like she needed rest and interrogating her probably wouldn’t help matters. But I can’t just leave her like this… He looked at her for a long moment, seemingly on the verge of saying something, before nodding and getting to his feet. Hearing her door click shut, Riza let out a shuddering breath as her head fell into her hands. Roy was in his room before he realized he had never given her the box he spent all day preparing.

After considering the circumstances for twenty minutes, Roy changed into his pajamas, again picking up the small gift box, and made his way back to Riza’s door. He noticed that her lights were off but he could still hear noise coming from inside her room… his eyes widened as he realized she was crying. His hand immediately jerked for the door handle, only to find that she had locked it.


	2. Chapter 2

The months flew by and Roy, almost finished with his first term at the military academy, constantly reflected on the distance that had made itself so painfully known in his relationship with Riza Hawkeye. After her birthday, Roy saw very little of her, and when they did happen upon each other, very little was said. He didn't know how to take it. Something had changed within her… something dark had happened to his best friend and she was making it very clear that she didn't want any of his help.

Not that you ever gave me that choice, Roy thought to himself as he boarded the train back to that little town he'd practically grew up in. He straightened his uniform out before sitting by the window, placing his cover on the table. I hope she won't think I look silly. Thoughts of her ceaselessly ran through his mind and today was no different. It had been almost a year since she had locked her door on him. Why had that affected him so? Was it because she prevented him from taking care of her when she had always taken it upon herself to comfort him when the situation was reversed? Was it because the act signified that she didn't need anyone – didn't need him – in the way that he realized he so desperately needed her.

Roy mindlessly fiddled around with the box he'd once again held in his pocket, hoping to finally get it out of his possession. He considered just leaving it behind with a note before embarking to the academy, but he ultimately considered that to be too impersonal when it came to the person he cherished most in the world. When he announced he was leaving for the academy, the timing didn't seem right and the air between them was still too awkward. The corner of his mouth quirked up softly as he closed his eyes, recalling the memory of his departure from the Hawkeye manor.

….

She didn't know what to say. Had this always been the plan? Is this what he meant about making a difference in the world? Maybe he was afraid to tell her, knowing how strongly her father opposed the military. That didn't bother her so much as the fact that he was leaving her… all alone in this rotting house with this rotting man in this rotten situation. Perhaps in her distance she had missed the signs he surely had been giving her. Surely he wouldn't spring something like this on her out of nowhere. Regardless of potentially misunderstood hints and deliberate avoidance, she was at a loss of words as those dark eyes she'd grown so fond of considered her sadly, but warmly, before he bid farewell and walked out of the front door.

Riza felt the air leave her lungs and not bother returning as she watched him walk through the yard to the cab waiting to take him to the train station. Say something, say something… she felt her heart would burst and yet she didn't know what to do. Firmly believing that actions spoke louder than words – and figuring the words would come later, anyway – she broke out into a sprint to catch up with him.

The sound of her footsteps let him release a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. Roy immediately turned, setting his suitcase down in the grass. Riza came to a halt right in front of him, a little flustered by the whole situation.

Damn it… I still don't know what to say, Riza thought as she looked into his eyes, willing him to understand all of her feelings towards him through the eye contact. There was so much she wanted to tell him but it simply wasn't the right time. With her father's health worsening, Roy's restlessness difficult to contain, and her own future up in the air… there would be a lot of consequences to the explanations she knew Roy wanted from her, but she didn't want to force him into anything. Sure, she knew he cared for her, but that didn't mean he was ready for the commitment that would come along with revealing the reason for her distance the past few months… Or maybe he wouldn't even consider it a commitment at all, she mentally slapped herself. They'd been close for years, but they were growing up and major life decisions had to be made. She didn't want to hinder him in any way from his goals, even if it meant keeping her feelings silent.

Roy readily met her gaze and his heart clenched at all he saw in her eyes, those beautiful eyes (and what color were they anyway?) he knew would haunt him for the rest of his days. There was no doubt that she supported him in all he did, but he couldn't help but feel guilty for not telling her sooner. Not knowing what to say, he took a step forward and wrapped her up in his arms, bringing his head to rest atop of hers. Riza instantly melted into his embrace and a few traitorous tears escaped her eyes, only to be caught in his shirt. She prayed he wouldn't notice.

Knowing this would last much too short for him, Roy tried to commit each second to memory. Memories of her arms around him on sleepless nights, of her transformation into his comfort blanket, rushed into his mind, as well as those of him feeling helpless as she cried to herself, fighting her demons all on her own. Roy tightened his hold on her, bringing one of his hands up to her hair. A sniffle broke the peace he'd found, but was quickly followed by words that he didn't realize he wanted so badly to hear.

"Come back to me, Roy."

…..

Roy woke up to see his train had stopped. He hurriedly smoothed out the invisible wrinkles on his uniform, grabbed his belongings, and booked it out of the station, excited to see Riza.

He had barely thought about how uncomfortable his encounter with Master Hawkeye would be. Yes, he'd rehearsed some of the things he'd wanted to say to him – about how he felt he had finally found his purpose, how flame alchemy would be used for good if he were to possess the power – but fate has a funny way of ripping everything from your control and rendering you speechless.

As speechless as Roy had been when he held Berthold Hawkeye in his arms, the sick man hurriedly giving him directions – and Riza, apologies – as he tried to outrun his last dying breath.

…..

The past few days went by so fast. Especially in comparison to the agonizingly long months that preceded them. One minute she was running into town, the next she was discovering that Roy had returned and – in that same moment – that her only known relative was fading fast from this world. And then she was standing before a simple grave, where she could swear her father would be happier than he's been in years. She didn't even remember a funeral… let alone who took care of all of the expenses. Of course, she wouldn't have to think long about the answer to that question. Riza was grateful for his presence next to her throughout the whole ordeal, during this time that a major constant in her world had disappeared. Her father's intense presence, growing heavier and heavier on her to the point that she feared her back would break under the pressure.

So when Roy mentioned the key to flame alchemy Master Hawkeye had stated would be in her possession, she held her breath.

In. Out.

Everything was just happening too quickly for Riza.

In. Out.

But who else in this world would be more worthy of this information than Roy?

In. Out.

Making her decision that evening, Riza led him up to her room. It felt like ages since Roy had been there, and the atmosphere, dripping in silence, anticipation, and discomfort, was thickening around him. Roy cleared his throat as he shut the door behind him, turning to see Riza staring out into the space beyond her window. The sun was setting and the light did magical things to her hair.

"I'm sorry we really haven't had the time to talk," Roy shifted uncomfortably, speaking behind her. Hoping she'd say something, Roy waited. When it became clear she wouldn't, he approached her.

"How are you feeling?" he spoke softly, coming up to stand next to her.

"Are you ready to learn the secrets to flame alchemy, Mister Mustang?" her voice was clear as it cut through the tension Roy had been feeling. While the stress with the anticipation of her voice had dissipated, another emotion, one he couldn't quite decide on, overtook him.

"Riza, you know you don't have to call me that," Embarrassment… was that it? "And there's no reason why we need to dive right into that right now. We just buried your father, for goodness sake." No, hurt… hurt was more like it. But not necessarily for himself…

"Look," Riza finally turned away from the window but still avoided looking him in the eyes. "It will take you a while to decipher the code and I don't know how long you have before you have to go back," but please don't tell me because it'll break my heart to remember you won't be here forever. "We should get started on this as soon as possible." And with that she turned and met his eyes, standing opposite him across the room. It hadn't even been a year, but he looked so much older, so much more confident. Not at all like her Roy that she held as he trembled beneath her arms…

She shook the thought from her head. No… things are different now. I cannot expect things to return to the way they were before… especially now… She would have to handle this just right so as not to accidentally guilt him into feel obligated to do something for her. She took in a deep breath, preparing herself for the emotional marathon she knew she was about to run.

Roy froze as her eyes (god, what color are they!) bore into his own, begging for understanding. When he took a step towards her she merely shook her head, looking down at the floor. This current situation was awkward for Roy and he wished he could just get her to sit down and talk to him for awhile, but she seemed determined to get this alchemy question answered there and now. He sighed, physically relinquishing any control he thought he held at the moment.

Acknowledging his submission, she turned around once again. "And Mister Mustang," she inwardly cringed at the way the formality crashed about in her mouth, completely unlike "Roy" would have smoothly rolled off of her tongue, "please don't say anything for a few minutes." She knew he'd have questions – she even felt them gathering in his head with that simple instruction – but perhaps this would prevent a rush of incessant inquiries: Did it hurt? How could he do this to you?Questions she had already racked her brain over. Perhaps he wouldn't ask about anything of that nature, she thought wryly, maybe he'll jump right into questions about equations and diagrams. She felt bile make itself known in her throat with that last thought.

In. Out.

She quickly started to undo the buttons on her blouse.

In.

She braced herself for this moment she'd been mentally preparing herself for.

Out.

She let the blouse fall to the floor, quickly unfastening her bra to allow it to join the other article.

In. Out.

She brought her hands up to cover her breasts as she tried to think of pleasant memories to make the time go by faster. Unsurprisingly, every thought involved the dark-haired bo-man- she'd asked to remain silent behind her. The whole situation was frustrating: she had thought of Roy in that way before, and it's so unfair that he has to see her body like this… in this condition. Underneath these conditions. She wondered if he would have found her beautiful before. She prayed he wouldn't find her beautiful now because of the array branding her skin. Just as her father seemed to. All of these thoughts flew through her mind in a matter of seconds and she realized it would feel like a world of time before she actually had to face Roy and his words.

After what felt like an eternity but couldn't possibly have been more than a minute, she heard the floor creak as he moved closer to inspect the array. Riza willed her pulse to slow, growing lightheaded with her heartbeat beating so unbearably fast in this unbearable position in this unbearable house with this unbearable curse on her back. Roy's hands on her shoulders tore her from her trance and withdrew a sharp gasp from her. He turned her around until she faced him, her eyes wide with bewilderment, his own deceptively neutral. His thumbs smoothed small circles on her shoulders as he maintained steady eye contact with her, face impassive as her expression struggled to mask her own confusion.

Roy's façade couldn't last long, though… not around her… and her eyes widened even more as she noticed a single tear descend down his cheek. His mouth began to quiver and his breathing grew markedly heavier as his hands stilled at her shoulders before abruptly pressing her to his chest, his arms holding her tight. Hands still across her own chest, Riza didn't know what to do as Roy shook around her, flood gates breaking loose upon her as she stood like a good soldier, what she expected him to be. She shivered involuntarily (possibly from the cold buttons of his uniform now pressed against her skin), causing him to draw her in even closer to his body as he tottered closer into hysterics. Riza's resolve had all but crumbled when she heard him sob into her shoulder, his grip on her still vice-like. She worked her arms out from between them and wrapped them around his waist, not bothering to think much about her bare chest being pressed against him.

Feeling the exhaustion – mental, emotional – begin to sink in, Riza attempted, and failed, to remove herself from his embrace. Truth be told, she didn't mind at all that he was pretty much supporting her body, especially when her head started to swim with everything that was happening. And not happening.

Roy sensed her slacken against him ever so slightly. Taking a deep breath, he loosened his hold on Riza for a moment only to pick her up and carry her over to her bed in the next. He quickly silenced her with a look when she made to protest. After laying her down softly, he removed his jacket and collared shirt, placing them in her desk chair, then, having picked up the blanket from the foot of her bed, covered her bare top before sliding into the other side of the bed.

This is not how this was supposed to happen, Riza thought as Roy smoothed the blanket over her, tucking her in and pulling them both closer together. She couldn't remember how exactly it was supposed to happen, just that this wasn't it. Roy made it impossible for her to ponder the subject too much as he brought his hand to rest at the small of her back, pressing her closer to his warm body, their faces inches apart. His eyes looked so much older…

"Can I say anything yet?" he asked, voice cracking with emotion she thought had already subsided. This was her Roy, and she'd be damned if she caused him any pain. She knew that allowing him to speak would bring on questions of the emotional variety (Did it hurt? How long ago?) and she couldn't afford for her levees to break too. Roy needed this information and she wanted him to have it with as little pain as possible, even though everything was so impossibly unfair. She'd be sure to control all the factors in this equation that she could, though, and one of those was assuring him that she was fine and he didn't need to worry about her.

"No," she said resolutely, gaze unfaltering.

Roy released her from his arms, stood up from the bed, and walked over to the door. She didn't bother looking at him, determined to keep her emotions locked in place, even if everything within her was screaming to stop him before he left her alone. A few seconds, after noticing he had turned off her lamps, she heard rustling as he took his boots and belt buckle off. Riza felt the heat creep into her cheeks as he came back to the bed, wearing only his boxers. He rejoined her under the covers and returned his hand to the small of her back, pulling her close until her head rested against his chest. Riza tensed up, unsure of what to do until she felt his lips pressed to her forehead. The action caused her to relax considerably in his arms, feeling his breathing even out as sleep overtook him. After a few moments in the darkness, Riza, too tired to calculate any more ways to handle the situation, succumbed to her weariness and followed Roy into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Got this out a little sooner than expected. Thank you all for reading along! Reviews are much appreciated :)


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist

* * *

That "war" was over yet Riza Hawkeye couldn't stop the conflict in her heart.

Of course she thought of killing him. But what would that accomplish? Sending a bullet cleanly through Major Mustang's head would make about as much sense as bashing her rifle to pieces against the wall of her hideout – there'd be mess to clean up and a reprimand for sure, but ultimately another weapon would be ordered, primed and ready to end lives the next day. And that's looking at matters surgically; throwing her heart into the mix made shooting him chaotically, impossibly difficult. Take that into account with the fact that she was the one who made him so desirable to the military, so dangerous… it was complicated to say the least.

She gave him the secrets in good faith. Flame alchemy would decidedly set him apart from his peers, springing him through the ranks and giving him more opportunities, and she understood just as well as he did how good this would be for him. And since he was so genuinely  _good_ , the young and innocent Riza had reasoned, the country would benefit from having him in a position to make decisions. But she couldn't have predicted that the power above him in the chain of command would be hell-bent on orchestrating genocide under the guise of a war to protect the good people of Amestris. Riza read the orders herself… as well as the punishment that would come should one not follow them. She'd always wondered if the frequently quoted "kill or be killed" mentality was referring to the right party.

Riza Hawkeye spent many a sleepless night in her tent analyzing her purpose in the world: the morality of her service in the war, the reason for having to bear the key to flame alchemy on her back, the pros and cons of empowering someone with that knowledge. No one ever said life was fair and her father had made it clear that nothing would come easily for her. The very act of preserving his life's work into her skin imposed upon her identity a dehumanizing quality, and it sickened her to think of  _her body_ as being the means through which a good person could be warped into a weapon of mass destruction.

Yes, deep in her heart she couldn't blame Roy for this evil anymore than she could blame herself for entrusting him with it. Her conscience reminded her that it could've been a horrendous lapse in judgment, but the torture she saw in his eyes confirmed that each lethal snap of his fingers tore away at his soul, just as each awful, perfect shot did to hers. She refused to accept that her life would be forever anchored to the wretched array on her back and she needed Roy Mustang, her own personal monster, to understand… to destroy the possibility of another person committing the same atrocities, however inadvertently, that they had.

* * *

Roy sat on his cot, arms loosely stretched out on the makeshift desk before him, empty eyes staring into nothingness as he tried to get a grip on everything around him. The sand, the blood, the fire, the red… so much red.  _Why is everything red_. Eyes, flames, lifeblood flooding the sands. That blasted color. Not a night went by that Roy's subconscious wasn't drenched in crimson, drowning him in his sleep as he recounted the murderous hours of his days. The reddish glow of his lamp was practically laughing at him as he tortured himself as his nightly routine demanded. Even though the war was declared over a few weeks ago, his unit wasn't due to ship out until later this week. Which was just fine for him – he deserved to suffer in his solitude, in those haunting red shadows of his tent.

She entered the tent silently, unnoticeably, as expected of a sniper of her caliber. But her aura is something  _he_ would always be able to sense. Her presence never failed to send waves right through him, assuring him that his other half was gravitating nearby just as his entire being wants ( _but definitely doesn't deserve_ ) her to. After all, there was no Roy Mustang without Riza Hawkeye.

The cot announced her arrival, squeaking under her weight as she sat down on her knees, head coming to rest on his shoulder, her cheek warm against his own and arms wrapping around him. Suddenly the world stopped spinning and Roy took a shuddering breath before cradling his face in his hands, feeling so terribly safe and so incredibly shattered all at once. She had bestowed upon him a precious gift and he fucked everything up.  _Everything_. And now she has a scar forming on her back with his name on it and even though she swears up and down that his burning of the tattoo allowed for the salvation of her identity, he can't help but feel a wave of nausea rush over him every time he remembers that night. The way the smell of her burning flesh permeated the air, how her body jerked as she braced herself against the flames. The way he tasted blood from her lips when she tried to assure him, with a heart-wrenching smile on her face, that it hadn't hurt that bad at all. She was a hell of a liar, but he could always see right through her mendacity.

Knowing him perhaps better than he knew himself, Riza took his hands in her own, further enveloping him in that confident security she couldn't always have for herself but would never fail to give to him.

She slid her hand down the length of his arm and picked up his pen, angling it towards a single blank sheet of paper, most likely intended to carry a letter home to his aunt. He felt her turn her head towards his, lips pressed to his cheek, noses barely touching. Melting. He was melting. And then she started to write.

**I don't hate you.**

_But I do. I hate me so fucking much._ Roy tried to bring a hand up to cover his eyes but she quickly regained her clasp, intertwining their fingers and holding his hand firmly against his chest. Her hand, small but strong against his, warmed him with a gentle squeeze. After giving him another light kiss on his cheek, she continued.

**Sometimes I wonder if I should have given you the secrets.**

She paused, as if wanting to make sure he sincerely considered each word before she moved on to the next sentence.

**I do not doubt your heart.**

Another pause.

**I am so sor**

Before she could finish, Roy had her pinned against his cot, hands gripping her wrists. They both seemed to be holding their breath as something burning within his eyes threatened to smother her.

"No," the harsh whisper shattered through the quiet calm that had cloaked the tent. "I will not accept that. Not from you." An apology from Riza for giving him the key to flame alchemy was the equivalent of putting all of his sins upon her shoulders. Giving her credit for all of his actions as if she was the criminal mastermind behind the massacre done by the hands of the infamous Flame Alchemist. Clearly she was striving to shift his guilt onto herself, but doing so would not only be ridiculously unfair for her but completely false: Roy was responsible for his actions as much as she was for hers. She gave him an option, not a command.

It felt nice to have his body so close especially as the world was falling apart. She was having difficulty rationalizing everything. The unjustified murder for the past several months contrasted with the celebrating soldiers just beyond his tent weighed heavily on her nerves, but the light in his eyes, however flickering as it was in this godforsaken desert, grounded her. And, on top of everything, he freed her from that demon in the back of her conscience, the one that constantly reminded her that her body could destroy a nation.

When Roy finally lowered his lips to hers, her body –  _her perfectly harmless body_  – went electric and she pulled him in closer, drinking him in. He began unbuttoning her uniform, his mouth following his fingers as he scattered kisses along her jaw line and down her neck. After undoing a couple buttons he came upon the necklace he had transmuted for her a few years ago. On the same day, actually, that her father divested her of her independence that she claims he had allowed her to reclaim less than two weeks ago. The small emerald dangling at the end of the silver chain shimmered splendidly on her collarbone and his heart beat at a quicker tempo thinking about how she faithfully wore it beneath her uniform. Her fingers raking through his hair ripped him from his reverie and he continued his attention to her skin, earning a moan from her that traveled from the vibrations in her throat down to the heat gathering below his belt. Within minutes their clothes were strewn across the floor, his mouth was on hers, and their bodies locked together without an inch of space between them as they ravenously took all of each other in as if their lives depended on it.

This wasn't the first time he'd been with her like this, but every time he hears her gasp as his body joins hers he could kill himself for not making a move sooner. He must have loved her long before it registered in his head and it frustrated him to no end to think that he could have been expressing his affection for her years ago. But, on the other hand, her loving him was still so much more than he deserved so he would gratefully accept any blissful moment she was willing to share with him. Roy knew without a doubt that he would always crave her, especially as their bodies moved together, her nails clutching at his back and his teeth teasing at her neck. He pulled back to look into her eyes but her hand gripping the hair on his head forces him back into a deep kiss, eliciting a groan from him that nearly sets them both off. Ultimately, it all starts and ends too quickly for both of them, but they don't regret a second of it.

Once they caught their breath, Riza situated herself over him, flinging one of her legs over his and resting her head on the hands she had folded on his chest, looking him in the eyes as she read his expression. The faint glow from the lamp revealed his furrowed brow and slight frown, shadows powerless to conceal his brooding countenance even while one of his hands absentmindedly massaged the dip of her lower back. His eyes were vacant, and for a moment it seemed as if he was looking right through her, as if she wasn't even there. Slightly uncomfortable, she started to speak but he cut her off.

"I didn't even think to ask if I was hurting you."

Her back was still a little tender, but nothing at all for him to worry about. Especially in light of the fact that she felt so incredibly relieved to have the bit of healing skin there in place of a lethal code. Riza had accepted that her body would be irreversibly marred long ago, but now it was on her own terms and she was content for the first time in a while. To quell his concern, she leaned up and kissed him.

"I'm naked and in your arms. Can you stop being so morbid?" she chided, a smart glint in her eyes and a heart-warming smile dancing on her lips that dispelled Roy's darkened features and restored the focus in his eyes. Her head settled back atop her hands as she once again considered him. "You did a good job with the bandages."

"Yes but-" she caught the rest of his sentence in her mouth as she kissed him languidly, her hands in his hair and her body moving to straddle his. He groaned into her lips as he brought his hands up to her hips, again losing himself in the divinity that is Riza Hawkeye.

"Enough, Roy," she breathed, "There's no point in dwelling on what we can't change. It's time to move forward." Her eyes pierced his, keeping him silent. "What we should be discussing," she whispered into his ear, the heat of it causing his breath to hitch, "is how you're going to get me stationed to Central with you."

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time trying to write something long... please let me know what you think! Thank you for reading :)


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